Page 97 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

Her breath caught. Loved him? It was simply an expression. That was all.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she nodded quickly, not wanting to explain what had just happened inside her own head. “I think you’re right. Oh, look—there’s a space over there.”

She pointed to an empty spot on the other side of the road, then looked at him suspiciously. “And would I also be right if I guessed you have something in mind? Some particular reason you were so keen to come to the market?”

He nodded but didn’t answer as he parked. Once they were out of the car, he came around to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. As they set off toward the market, he gave her a squeeze.

“I want to get you some cushions for that new bench.”

She tightened her arm around his waist. He was such a wonderful man.

They walked down the main street toward the area at the bottom of the village, where market stalls spilled across the side streets and alleyways. Blane waited patiently while she stopped to study some lacework displayed in the window of one of the shops.

When she finally tore herself away, she looked up at him with a smile. “Sorry. We should get down there, shouldn’t we? Let’s cross here.”

She checked for traffic and stepped off the pavement. Or at least, she started to. She didn’t get far before Blane’s enormous arm came down across her, catching her and hauling her back onto the pavement.

“Blane—”

A car shot past them, its horn blaring.

“Oh.” Her hand flew to her mouth. She’d almost stepped straight in front of it because she’d looked the wrong way.

Blane’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and the scowl on his face sent a chill through her.

“Oh my goodness, Blane. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so stupid. I—”

When she dared look at him again, his expression had already gentled. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against his chest.

“Jesus, Bea. I’m not mad at you—you scared me.”

She pressed her face against him. “I’m sorry. I scared me too. That was such a stupid thing to do. I just didn’t…”

“You just haven’t trained your instincts yet. That’s all.” His hand moved slowly over her back. “You looked. I saw you look. You just looked the wrong damn way.”

She let out a shaky breath, and he eased back enough to look down at her. “We have to stop joking about the wrong side of the road and get you used to being on the right side.”

He kept his arm around her as they crossed the road and didn’t remove it while they wandered around the market. Bea was mortified that she’d almost stepped straight in front of a car, mortified and more than a little shaken. She knew she’d frightened him too; his face had gone white. But she pulled herself together. It was behind them now, and she’d simply have to pay more attention until looking the right way became instinctive.

Blane gave her shoulders a little shake as they passed a stall covered with all kinds of ceramics. She smiled when she saw what had caught his attention—garlic graters.

He looked down at her, smiling. “Have you unpacked the one we bought in London yet?”

She frowned. “Do you know what? I don’t think I have. That’s awful. I must get it out when we get back.”

He chuckled. “Knew they weren’t really a thing. Not anything useful anyway.”

She slapped his arm. “Yes, they are. In fact, tomorrow night when we cook, I’ll show you how to use it. It’s really quite ingenious.” Something farther along the stall caught her eye. “Oh, look. There’s something else I’ve been after.”

Blane pursed his lips as she picked up a pestle and mortar. It was a beautiful bright blue glaze and a decent size too.

His eyebrows drew together. “You have a blender.”

She let out a breath. “It’s not remotely the same thing, Blane.”

He took it from her and weighed the mortar in his hand. “Could do some damage with this.”

“It’s for basil, Blane.”